Part 6
They turned me on my back, the assistants again tied my swollen boobs with ropes. They started pulling so as to get me up fixed as I was to the stake. I felt my tits ready to tear apart and unstuck from their place. The pole got up and fall precisely into the hole they had dug. The vibration must have helped the monster move a few inches more inside me. [Screaming] Everything went into black.
I do not know how much time had passed when I felt cold water pour on me, I opened my eyes. I saw some terrified faces in front of me. Some had their hands in their mouths and trying to hide the shock and fear they felt, I turned my head a little to the right and saw a completely different spectacle. Happy men and women. They cheered and laughed, some of them had even taken their cocks out and jerking them. My sight was captured by a particular man, about fifty years old, with a thick twisted mustache and no teeth, he was celebrating and cheering, he had the one hand in his trouser and with the other he was pounding a younger woman in the crowd.
Until that time I had not understood what was happening. But suddenly my senses were completely restored. The terrible pain and the awareness of what was happening struck me like lightning. I was the main event. I started begging again. I looked down, the blood ran down to the stake not too much, but enough that in combination with the oil that I had applied made my feet slip and not able to prevent penetration.
I shouted and cried like a dog, insulting them and begging for mercy at the same time. Unable to show me the slightest kind of mercy they continued letting me nail myself on the stake slowly. Now the battle I was engaged was against gravity, I was stretching my body upwards, pushing with my feet trying to climb to the wood but all my efforts failed. The people continued laughing and taunting me, most could not feel the slightest pity, in their eyes I was just a young girl, who had broken all the laws of Islam and now had to be punished, a punishment that she deserved. So being impaled to a wooden third leg and dancing on it seemed just, right, and fun.
There were times when I lost track of time and woke up again bathed in cold water, when I fainted I could steal a few minutes or maybe seconds without feeling the most intense pain. However, the executioners did not allow me to pass out for long, they immediately helped me regain consciousness so as to feel every moment of horror and anguish. The martyrdom I experienced had no end. Eventually I realized that there isn’t any hope of escaping it and so I began to ask my torturers to put an end to my martyrdom. Now I begged them to take me out of my misery, I would give everything for a bullet in the heart right now, but that is not going to happen. No matter how much I begged, there was no one brave enough in the crowd to do it.
Looking down I could see that there was not much left until my feet reached the ground. But then it happened, suddenly as I turned my head to the right I saw a swelling in the right shoulder, then slowly began to pop up the wooden pole that they had put into my ass. Next to my right ear, the stake which I was spitted on began to come out. The spasmodic panic attacks I made and the fact that the wooden torturer had overpassed through all the obstacles and found no resistance anywhere made my descent very fast. The motherfuckers knew their job well, they had led the stake from the right side to avoid the heart so as not to end my torment prematurely.
My beautiful face was completely deformed, it wasn't beautiful anymore. My eyes were rolled back and goggled ready to come out of my skull. My hair was pulled back and I had lost whole tufts that I had pulled trying to find somewhere to get caught in the panic and horror, my tits were damaged and crippled and my face was red and sweaty. My feet touched the ground, for the first time after many hours, my feet landed on a lake of blood, urine and water that had gathered under my skewered body.
I knew very well that impalement was a method of execution in which if the executioner was experienced and skilled the martyrdom could last even days. In some cases, after they finished skewering the victim, their orders were to show mercy and end the torture, but in my case I don't think they had that in mind.
Despite the excruciating pain I felt and the intense feeling of nausea, I knew that my tormentor had successfully performed his duty. Unfortunately for me my death will take long to come.
My thoughts were interrupted, as in my blur and pain, I could see with the edge of my eye the assistants, holding two shovels and digging a pit.
They finished the digging quite fast, the assistant executioners threw dry wooden branches inside and lit a fire. My torment had no end, I was exhausted and severaly injured, my cries were no longer loud, it sounded like whistles, like moans that an animal makes shortly before it dies, but until I was finished I had the feeling that I had a long way to go.
